If he thinks, even for a second, that he and I are on the same page, he has another thing coming to him. We’re not even reading the same book.
“While I’m here, I was hoping you might have a minute to run me through the presentation one final time.”
Looking down at his watch, Tyler nods. “I actually have a meeting starting any minute with the rest of the departments to discuss another client. I can try and meet you earlier tomorrow if you want.”
“That’s okay. I was hoping to ensure I was able to answer any questions they might have when we meet tomorrow morning.”
Looking over his shoulder at me, Tyler’s expression asks the one question I was hoping it wouldn’t. Nodding in agreement, I pull up JP’s file and transfer the presentation to the conference room.
“Justine will go over it once more with you and if you have any questions or concerns you can email me. I’ll make sure to check before I leave for the night.”
“Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”
Tyler shows JP to the conference room and I follow behind. As I pass Ally’s desk, she appears from Ryder’s office, a stack of files in her hand, a scowl on her face. She’s had a rough few days and today doesn’t look much better.
“If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, send help,” I remark, nodding in JP’s direction.
“I’ll make sure to sharpen the scissors,” she replies, plopping the stack of files on her desk.
Chapter Sixteen
Helen pops her head in the conference room a few minutes later, letting Tyler know that his next appointment has arrived. Closing the door behind him, I dim the lights and start the presentation, going over each detail. Keeping one eye focused on the screen, the other is watching JP.
He’s not paying attention to the presentation. He’s watching me. Staring at me to be exact.
It's grating on my nerves, but I know if I comment on it, he wins. This is a game to him. He’s doing everything he can to get under my skin. For what?
If he wanted to win me back, this wouldn’t be the way to do it, and he knows that.
If he’s looking for a reaction, I won’t give him the satisfaction.
As long as I keep my focus, this will be over in two days. I won’t have to deal with him anymore. He can show up at the bar all he wants. Once his contract with Dixon has been fulfilled, I can tell him to fuck off without any backlash.
Turning the lights back up, I shut the presentation off and walk to the door without saying a word. When I open it to leave, JP doesn’t move.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asks.
“There’s nothing to say, Mr. Shuran. If you have any questions about the plan, Mr. Dixon will reply to your email this evening.”
“If that’s the way you want to play this,” he remarks, standing but not moving to leave. “I see the way you still look at me, Justine. I’ve given you multiple opportunities to make your move these last two weeks. I’m not sure if you’re scared to love me again, or fighting your feelings, but this is your last chance. Think twice before you waste it.”
Bite your tongue, Justine. Bite down and smile. Don’t respond, that’s what he wants.
Shaking my head at his words, I can’t help but put him in his place. This has gone on long enough. Last time we parted ways, I walked away without a word. I won’t give him that satisfaction again. He’s going to listen to what I have to say and he’s not going to like it.
“I’m not wasting another day on you, JP. You think you’re hot shit, but I have news for you. You’re not. Not even close. The way you treat people, the same people you say you love, is horrible. A real man would never have put me through what you did. A real man would have shown me love and cared for me. You… all you did was care about yourself, and in the end, that couldn’t have been more evident.”
Ally picks the perfect moment to show up in the doorway, scissors in hand, ready to stab someone.
“What did I miss?” she asks, looking at me and JP.
His face is emotionless. I expected anger or even rage, but he’s showing nothing.
Me on the other hand, I know anger is written all over my face. My fists are clenched, wanting more than anything to punch him square in the jaw.
“So, if there’s nothing else, we’re done here,” I finally say.
JP walks between Ally and me, stopping just as he’s outside the door. Turning to me, a smile slowly spreads across his face. “You have no idea who you’re messing with, Justine.”
“Yes, I do, actually. A psychopathic stalker. Stay away from me. Stay away from my friends. Disappear like you did two years ago.”
With his head held high, JP walks away without looking back. My entire body begins to tremble as Ally helps me to the nearest chair. JP’s chair. I scurry out of it when I catch a whiff of his cologne.
“I’m proud of you,” Ally states, handing me a bottle of water.
“I’m probably fired,” I mutter under my breath.
Tyler will find out what happened. He’ll be angry that I spoke to a client like that and fire me on the spot. If he doesn’t do it, Mr. Dixon will. I guarantee it.
“I doubt it.” Ally’s confidence is staggering. There’s a knowing look on her face, and when I follow her line of sight, I realize that Tyler, Ryder, and Hunter are in the room next door, the blinds are up, and all three are staring in our direction.
“What?” I ask.
“Tyler caught on that he was trying to get you alone, so he came in and turned on the speaker. They heard everything. So did I. I only brought the scissors in case he went postal.”
Laughing at her own joke, I stare at my best friend in awe. She knew I was strong enough even when I didn’t.
After a long talk with Tyler, he gives me the rest of the week off. Mandatory vacation. He doesn’t want me anywhere near JP, and until their project is complete, the only way to avoid that is to keep me out of the office.
As I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, an idea crosses my mind.
ME: Are we still on for this weekend?
DEVON: Hell yes. Are you really coming down?
ME: Yep. I was just put on mandatory vacation.
DEVON: Wait. You’re not fired, are you?
ME: No. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there.
DEVON: Tonight?
ME: I was thinking tomorrow.
DEVON: Tonight…
Before I can reply, my phone is ringing. The moment I answer it, Devon begins begging me to come down tonight. It’s already after five o’clock. By the time I pack and make it there, it would be close to eight o’clock with the time change. It makes more sense to head down tomorrow afternoon.
“But if you leave now, you won’t hit traffic. Plus, that’s an extra day we’ll get to spend together,” he pleads.
“Not really. All we’ll do is go to bed when I get there.”
“Exactly. It’s been three days since I’ve held you. That’s too long.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m agreeing to his demands and packing a bag. Writing Audra a note, I leave it on the fridge and head out. An hour into my trip, she’s calling me asking me if I really left town, which makes me laugh. The last time I left her a note like that, I was avoiding her. This time it’s the real deal.
My GPS guides me straight to Devon’s front door. It’s an easy drive, aside from the seven construction zones I went through. He warned me about them before I left, but that didn’t make my lead foot any less frustrated when I had to slow down.
Slowly walking up the front path, I take in his house the best I can using the little bit of light from the porch and the street behind me. It’s a modest two-story, surrounded on either side by a similar house. The houses are close enough that you can barely walk between them. It resembles the brownstones you see in New York City.
The front door opens for me as I’m about to knock, and I’m pulled into Devon’s arms.
“You made it,” he says, kissing me gent
ly as he places me back on my feet.
“I did. It was a fairly easy drive too.”
“I told you it was better to come tonight when there was less traffic,” he replies, taking my bag and leading me inside.
After a tour of the house, Devon and I curl up in front of the television and begin making plans for the weekend. Once he convinced me to come down tonight, he started moving his schedule around so he could spend more time with me.
We have a lunch date tomorrow and Friday, just the two of us. Tomorrow night we have dinner with his mother. He plans to show me where he works after lunch on Friday and then wants to show me the rest of downtown. He’s going to try and take a half day, but if he can’t, I plan on doing some shopping while I wait for him to get out.
“So tell me about this mandatory vacation,” he finally says as we crawl into bed.
He’s already naked and I’m in the process of taking off my shirt when his words catch me off guard. I do not want to talk about JP right now. Not when I’m about to jump into bed with another man.
Talk about killing the mood.
“How about I tell you over lunch tomorrow and right now, we find another way to enjoy each other’s company,” I suggest, crawling over to him.
“I like the way you think.”
Devon’s smirk is contagious as he rolls me onto my back and captures my lips. Gentle at first before becoming more demanding, he has me wiggling beneath him in seconds.
ALLY: Where are you?
ME: In Chicago.
ALLY: It’s Thursday.
ME: Mandatory vacation until JP’s no longer a client.
ALLY: Lucky bitch. How’s Devon?
ALLY: Wait, don’t answer that. I’m already jealous of your vacation, I don’t need to hear how you’re spending it naked. I’ll pout the rest of the day. I really need to get laid.
ME: Are you in file hell again?
ALLY: Yep. Only today I have two gigantic stacks.
ME: What are you doing with all those files?
ALLY: Ryder has me working on a special project he’s putting together for Emerson. Top Secret.
ME: I’m sorry.
ALLY: Me too. I better get back to work. Don’t have too much fun.
If she only knew what I had planned for today. It won’t be fun. I finally have to tell Devon about JP. I’ve been thinking about what I plan to say all morning.
Hey, my ex is a client and because I told him off, Tyler decided I needed a vacation.
So my ex is sort of stalking me and he also happens to be a client. I went ballistic on him and now here I am.
Then there’s the simplest explanation of all.
I told off a client and Tyler put me on vacation until their project is complete.
No mention of JP being my ex. No mention of the way he was hitting on me, stalking me, and sending me gifts. All that drama is kept out of the discussion.
Making my way into the city, I give myself extra time. Not only am I in a strange city, but he mentioned that I might have to parallel park. That’s not my foray. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I tried to parallel park. It’s been far longer than I’d like to admit and is not a skill I use often.
As I pass the restaurant for the second time, I spot someone vacating their spot on the street. Running through the steps I read over on the Internet before leaving, I hit my blinker and pray I don’t hit anything else, like another car.
It takes me three tries, but I manage to get in without incident and close enough to the curb that my car isn’t in danger of being sideswiped. Reaching for my purse, I spot Devon standing on the sidewalk, waiting for me.
The moment I open my door, he begins clapping. “Nice job,” he jokes.
“Thanks. I wasn’t aware I was being watched.”
“It was a great show,” he teases, pulling me in for a kiss.
“How so?” I ask as I slide my arm through his and we walk toward the entrance to the restaurant.
“Between your facial expressions and the swearing, I was highly entertained.”
Shit, he heard me? I didn’t realize I was yelling. How many other people enjoyed the show, I wonder.
As the waitress heads to place our order, Devon reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. He’s been finding little ways to touch me any chance he gets. I’m not complaining, I enjoy every second of it, but this is different. The way he’s holding my hand, he seems hesitant yet gentle.
Did I do something wrong?
“So,” he begins, a lump forming in my throat. “Tell me about this mandatory vacation.”
Swallowing the lump, I clear my throat, prepared to tell him everything. The truth will set me free, right?
“I screwed up, sort of. I told off a client during a meeting.” Devon’s face slowly morphs, his shock apparent as he pulls his hand back and relaxes into the booth.
“This should be interesting,” he comments as the waitress places a basket of warm rolls in the middle of the table before scurrying away again.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds, but I was out of line.”
“What did they do to warrant your harsh words?”
“He was being an ass,” I mutter, looking down at my hands as they pick apart a piece of bread.
“Well, if I know Tyler, he wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.”
“He wasn’t in the room, but he saw everything.”
“And he still made you take the rest of the week off?”
“The campaign launches on Friday, so after that, I won’t have to work with this client anymore.”
After having him walk back in my life without warning, I’ll be glad to be rid of him again. I want to add that, to say it out loud, but I don’t. Instead, I shove a piece of bread in my mouth, pray he doesn’t ask for more information, and thank my lucky stars that I have a job to go home to after the weekend is over.
Chapter Seventeen
After lunch, Devon takes me up to his office and gives me a tour, introducing me to his colleagues. His office is impressive. Furnished with modern pieces from his large desk to the sitting area, I’m in awe of his space. Nothing in his office astonishes me more than the view.
Twenty-second floor, overlooking Lake Michigan.
When his secretary knocks on the door, I realize our visit is over. He has a meeting, and I need to find something nice to wear to meet his mother tonight. Devon tries to hand me his credit card, insisting he wants to pay for whatever I decide to buy, but I politely decline.
Not because he offends me, but because I don’t want to be in that situation again. The last time I let someone buy me things, I felt in debt to them. I also burned every single thing his money purchased after we split, including the little black dress he asked me about.
Why am I thinking about him right now?
He’s nothing like Devon. Not even close.
Devon is caring with an enormous heart. He’s giving and kind.
JP is a taker. He’ll give a little and expect things in return tenfold.
As I browse through the first few stores, nothing catches my eye. My mind is focused on other things making shopping less enjoyable.
When my phone chimes in my purse, providing me with the distraction I need, I pause and take a seat on the bench outside my next store.
JP: Missed you this morning.
Seriously? I thought I was perfectly clear with him yesterday. Does he not understand that I want nothing to do with him?
ME: Can’t say the same about you. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. I’m no longer working on your campaign. I’m on vacation.
JP: I thought we discussed that. You were part of the deal. If you’re not part of the campaign, I’m not working with Dixon.
ME: It wasn’t my decision. I was put on mandatory vacation after the way I spoke to you yesterday. This is your doing, not mine. If you would have left me alone, things wouldn’t have escalated the way they did and I wouldn’t have yelled at you.
&nb
sp; Suck on that, JP. This is not my fault. He pushed me past my breaking point after I gave him multiple opportunities to take a step back.
JP: Consider your vacation over.
ME: That’s not your call. I don’t work for you.
Should I warn him that Tyler saw everything? That there’s no way he’s talking his way out of this and that his contract is binding?
Nah, I’ll let him figure that out for himself.
JP: I’ll see you tomorrow, Justine.
ME: Please don’t contact me again. We’re through. We’ve been through for a long time and nothing you say will change that.
He doesn’t bother to reply. I’m sure he’s attempting to get in contact with Tyler in hopes of finding a way to get me there tomorrow. He can try all he wants, but Tyler won’t fall for his shit. Not after what he saw the other day. Not after the conversation we had.
Had I been honest with Tyler from the beginning, things may not have gone this far. Tyler would have ripped up the contract and kicked JP out. I wish I had been, but at the time, when he asked if I could work with him, I wanted to be the bigger person. My hope was that I was stronger than the woman he destroyed.
Turns out, I’m not.
Someday I will be, but that day has not come yet.
Noticing the time, I rush into the store I’m sitting in front of and grab the first thing that catches my eye. A long, black dress that dips low in the back but sits high in the front. Moving quickly, I find a pair of shoes to match as well as a shawl. When I reach the counter, the woman quickly rings and bags my items.
“Thank you, have a nice day, Justine,” she says, handing me my bag.
“Thanks,” I reply, drawing out the single word, my confusion evident.
I’ve been attempting to hand her my card, but she hasn’t reached for it. How in the hell did she know my name?
“It’s been taken care of,” she remarks, pushing my outstretched hand away.
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